You could see in his eyes that he wanted one—reclining chair, daddy’s chair, chair of his own. His face kept turning back that way as they walked round the store. He had a sudden urge to sit and “try” putting his feet up. He wasn’t sure, he said, about looking for anything else.
You could see in his eyes that he wanted one, but his words kept saying no. “Not quite the right color; the back’s too tall; the seat’s a bit too low.”
He only wanted a perfect chair but nothing would satisfy him there, or anywhere else.